A Very Glee Sandwich
by Violet-Amy
Summary: Sam, Puck, and Finn overhear Kurt and the girls talking about sex and the Glee guys. Kurt admits he has done stuff and prefers bottoming but says none of the Glee guys would make a decent top for him. Sam and Puck, in particular, are "too subby." The two decide to show him he's wrong. From a GKM prompt.
1. Chapter 1

"Okay, okay, quiet, y'all," Mercedes raises her voice over the girls' laughter. She has to throw a pillow at Santana and Brittany to get their attention. "Who's the best you've ever had? I'll start. Sam." She points at Tina. "Now go."

"Mike, obviously," Tina answers, giggling. "I mean, Artie's a nice guy, but you didn't really think I'd say him, did you?"

Brittany laughs the loudest at this, even though it's at the expense of her own boyfriend. She doesn't even notice at first that everyone is staring at her, and when she does she just shrugs and says, "What? Artie's great and I love him but he's not the best I ever had."

"Who _was_ the best, Britt?" Kurt asks. He tries to affect a bored tone, but he's actually dying to know, because if it's anyone at all heteroflexible...He hasn't gotten laid since he's been back at McKinley, and while he was at Dalton he discovered that he has certain needs.

But Brittany's not any help—she just mumbles something about taking the fifth dimension. Of course the look she gives Santana while she's mumbling her nonsense tells everyone everything they need to know anyway. As if they didn't already.

Finn stops chewing his Dorito for a second because he just heard something. He's eating chips off the basement floor—it's the punishment the other guys insisted on after he made them all lose a battle in Call of Duty to some guys in Houston—and now he's hearing voices down here. Girls' voices. "Shh!" he tells the guys. Then, since they ignore that, "Shut the fuck up!"

"Who's the best _you've_ ever had, Santana?" he hears a girl say. No, not a girl. Kurt. He can hear what's going on in Kurt's room upstairs through a heating vent near the floor!

The guys start talking again, ignoring him, until he says, "Quiet, idiots! Santana's about to say who the best guy she ever fucked is." Sam and Puck instantly shut up and get down on the floor with him to listen.

Upstairs, Santana's face goes serious as she considers the question. "Finn," she says, nodding. "Definitely."

"Yes!" Finn shouts, before it occurs to him that the girls might be able to hear them too. He covers his hand with his mouth, but he can't stop smiling. Sam offers him a high-five, and he returns it left-handed.

Rachel purses her lips and folds her arms across her chest. "Santana, if you're just saying that to rub it in..."

Santana laughs. "_Of course _I'm just saying it to rub it in. My god, no one thought I was really serious, did they?" Down in the basement, Finn gets up and walks away from the vent, while Sam and Puck try not to make eye contact with him. But they do keep listening as Santana goes on. "I mean, I'm glad _you're_ happy with him—or are you on the outs now? I can never keep track of all the Finchel drama because I so don't care—but personally? I prefer guys who seem like they're actually alive during sex, not like a tuna flopping around in the bottom of the boat." The guys try really hard not to laugh at that.

"I was actually only talking about kissing," they hear Mercedes say.

"I knew you and Sam never did the deed!" Santana says. "That boy is a virgin if ever I saw one." Now it's Sam's turn to look away uncomfortably, although he doesn't actually get up and walk across the room like Finn did.

"If Sam's a virgin that means you never did it with him either," Tina points out. "So who _was_ your best?"

Santana looks around the room, at all the eyes on her, and shrugs. "Karofsky, obviously. We're in love."

Kurt scoffs. "So in love that you call him by his last name." Santana glares at him, and he hastens to add, "But whatever. Your relationship is your business, and whatever you said to him that made him decide to leave me alone, I appreciate deeply."

"That's more like it," Santana says. "So how about it, dollface? Are you as virginal and innocent as Trouty?"

"I'm not actually..." Sam mutters to Puck. True, he's never done it with anyone in Lima, but there was this guy at his boarding school...oh, and the other guy...

"All I'm saying is that all-boys' schools are a bottom's paradise," Kurt says, and Sam nods along. Not that he's a bottom, but he knows how sought-after they are.

"All right, Kurt, none of us wants to hear what you let anyone do to your bottom," Mercedes says.

"Speak for yourself." The girls all look at the maker of this comment, Tina, who now says, "What? Kurt has a nice ass! And if he ever wanted to let Mike stick his—"

"La la la, can't hear you!" Mercedes interjects.

"I'm just saying I wouldn't be averse to lending Mike out. Provided I got to hear about it in detail later. Or maybe see pictures?" She looks at Kurt hopefully.

"Um, Tina. Wow. I don't know what to say." It's a nice offer, he guesses, although he has no idea whether Tina's actually authorized to extend it. But just in case she is, just in case it's something Mike and Tina have actually discussed, he should probably actually formally decline. Because the thing is, he's just never been attracted to Mike. Not that he might not be desperate enough some time—what with all the cock he's _not_ getting lately—but in the meantime he's still holding out for someone who meets his standards in the looks _and_ personality departments. "I wouldn't want to get involved with someone with a girlfriend."

"Oh, that's too bad, cause I'd make the same offer for Artie," Brittany says.

"Yeah. Too bad." He's never been attracted to Artie either. "Thanks, though."

"Way to let Kurt weasel out of answering the question, everyone," Santana says. "But that's okay. His weaseling says it all. Virgin with a capital V."

"If you want to think that, go ahead," Kurt says. "I don't have anything to prove to you. I concede that I could certainly never out-whore you, Santana."

Brittany nods seriously. "I'm the only one who can do that."

"You are the queen, Brittany," Kurt agrees. "Besides, even if I wanted to try to compete with you and Santana—and I'm not actually saying that I wouldn't—given the lack of suitable partners at McKinley I'd never stand a chance."

"It must suck to be the only gay guy," Tina says.

"The only _out_ gay guy," Kurt corrects, studiously avoiding looking at Santana. "But, yeah, it does."

"Well, what if you had some kind of magic powder that you could sprinkle on any guy to make him gay?"

"Tina...did you just intentionally avoid using the term _fairy dust_ for your hypothetical magical powder?"

Tina thinks about it and laughs. "Hey, that's pretty good. Uh, unless it's offensive, in which case I totally avoided it on purpose." Kurt shakes his head. It would have been a little offensive maybe, but he's even more appalled that she missed such an obvious one. "Anyway," Tina continues, "who would you use it on? Out of the glee guys? You don't _have _to say Mike even though he's the hottest and I'd be totally okay with it."

"Um, well, not Mike, because he's with you. Even if you'd be okay with it, I wouldn't. Same for Artie."

"And Finn because he's with Rachel," Brittany adds. "Right, Rachel? Or is he back with Quinn already?"

Kurt sees the furious look on Rachel's face and leaps to her rescue. "Finn and Rachel are together and as happy as two lovebirds can be, and Quinn is pleased for them and is delighted to be good friends with both of them." Quinn smiles blandly at Rachel—a smile Rachel tries to return but can't quite because she's still giving the stink eye to Brittany and Santana. "And anyway," Kurt goes on, "I can't even think about Finn that way anymore. He's my brother now, and that would just be...ew."

"So that just leaves..."

"Sam and Puck," Mercedes fills in for Tina. "And as someone who dated both of them, let me just say—"

"Oh, please," Santana says. "You never even let either of them get to first base. What do you know about taking it up the ass from either of them?"

Down in the basement, Sam and Puck smile at each other. Puck doesn't actually find the idea of giving it to Hummel up the ass unappealing. And since Sam's grinning too, it's not that big a deal.

"Or giving it to either of them up the ass," Brittany adds.

Kurt coughs lightly. "Actually, uh, Santana's right. I've tried both and I definitely have a preference for, uh, taking it."

Downstairs the guys' smiles get even wider. "I knew it," Sam mutters. That is, he kind of thought, just like Santana did, that Kurt was still a virgin. But he was pretty sure that he would turn out to be a bottom sooner or later. Man, he just hopes Kurt picks him over Puck. Though even if he doesn't, Sam could fight for him...

There's a lot of squealing coming from upstairs, and Puck finds himself shushing the girls despite knowing they can't hear him. It's not like he's worried Kurt is going to pick the living Ken doll over himself. He just wants to _hear_ Kurt describe how much he wants Puckasaurus inside his sweet little ass.

The girls quiet down after a few minutes, and Sam and Puck scoot in closer to the grate when they hear Tina press Kurt: "So which one? Sam or Puck?"

There's an interminable pause, during which the guys in the basement hold their breath. And eventually Kurt says, "Ugh. Neither."

"What!?" Puck springs to his feet and kicks the wall. "Little dude can't be serious."

"Shh!" Sam orders. "He's still talking." Surely he's going to clarify...because he couldn't have really meant...

"They're hot, I'll give them that. Sam's abs...Puck's arms..." Kurt gets lost in reverie for a second before he remembers he was explaining why they're unsuitable sex partners. "They're both just so...so subby."

"What'd he say?" Puck demands.

"He said we're both too _subby_."

Finn looks up from his phone for the first time since he walked away in a huff. "What's going on?"

"Kurt said he doesn't wanna fuck us because we're too _subby_," Sam fills him in.

"Subby?"

Puck rolls his eyes. "Subby. Like...submissive. Like...he thinks we want someone to boss us around in the sack."

Finn starts to laugh. "He really called _that_."

"Yeah? Well he said you were, and I quote, 'Ew.'"

_That_ wipes the smirk off Hudson's face. Until Evans has to go and add, "Because you're his brother" and totally take away Puck's small victory. "Quiet! They're still talking!"

Puck gets back on the floor and this time Finn joins them too. Santana's saying something that they miss, but they catch Kurt agreeing with whatever it was. "Exactly. And I mean, the way he was following Lauren around like a puppy dog. Please!"

Finn rolls onto his back laughing. "That is so true! What was up with you and her anyway?"

Puck, unable to think of a satisfactory retort, falls back on, "Shut the fuck up, dude!" and a hard shove to Finn's shoulder.

"And Sam..." Kurt continues up in his room. "I mean, he seems sweet enough and everything, but...I mean, Mercedes, was he ever anything other than a perfect gentleman with you?"

"No. He wasn't," Mercedes answers defiantly.

"Oh, that's it!" Sam exclaims. He stands and pushes up the sleeves of his hoodie.

"Dudes, what are you doing?" Finn asks, watching as Puck stands too.

"Your brother is under some serious misapprehensions about me and my bro here, dude," Puck answers. "We're going to go clear them up."

Sam, however, isn't actually _that_ concerned with clearing up whatever misapprehensions Kurt might have about Puck. He stops him on the stairs, out of earshot of Finn. "Just so we're on the same page here, bro..." Fuck, how to put it? "You wanna double team him? Both of us fuck him?"

"Yeah, man, that's the idea. Unless he's right about you and you don't have it in you."

Sam shakes his head. That's not what he's getting at at all. "No, I mean...just once?"

Puck looks at him all confused. "I can go more than once."

"But I mean just _tonight_?"

"Well...yeah. That should prove our point. I mean, I'll be honest—Hummel's got an amazing ass, and this isn't the first time I've thought about getting all up on it and all up _in _it. But that doesn't actually make me gay. It just makes me...I mean, if that wasn't all just talk and he really wants it as rough as he was inferring? We'd be idiots _not_ to hit that."

Sam relaxes a little. Not totally, because he still can't believe Kurt thinks he's _subby_, but at least he can relax about that other thing.

They don't speak the rest of the way up. When they reach the hallway outside Kurt's bedroom door they hesitate for just a second, just long enough to hear laughter and Kurt saying, "And I mean, if either of them did like guys, they'd be total bottoms."

Sam flings the door open and strides in, Puck right behind him. "Good evening, ladies," Puck says. "Kurt." He meets Kurt's eyes and watches the boy's face go a very deep red.

"Kurt," Sam repeats, looking him over slowly from head to toe and back again. He's barefoot, and his pale, delicate ankles are exposed and crossed in front of him as he sits with his knees up against his chest. He looks so...limber. Soon Sam is going to have those ankles over his own shoulders. He's wearing a plain white shirt, one button too many undone to look like anything but an invitation to suck a bunch of hickeys into the creamy skin. The jauntily tied scarf makes Sam think he may just be hiding one or two already.

"Puck. Sam. What brings you up here? I thought you were playing war games with Finn?"

"We were," Puck says, crossing his arms and leaning back against the door. "But it sounded like you girls were having way more fun up here. You girls and Kurt."

"Kurt is the one we really want to see," Sam says, and he doesn't stop leering for a second, and it's very...surprising. "We need to borrow him for a few minutes. Or more."

"Borrow him for what?" one of the girls asks—Puck honestly doesn't even know which one because he can't look at anything but Kurt and the way his legs are crossed in front of him so you can see just a glimpse of his snug-jeans-covered ass, but not nearly enough.

Puck lifts the corner of his lip in a smirk. "We need him for a sandwich we're making."

"A sandwich, Puck?" Kurt asks. "Really?" It's possibly the worst innuendo he's ever heard. Except...is Puck actually propositioning him? Are both of them?

"Yeah, a _sub_ sandwich," Sam says. "Like Puck says, we can't make one without you."

Oh..._oh_. They heard everything. Or if not everything, then at least _that._ And now they want to do something about it!

Well. This night just got very interesting.

He gives them his best coquettish eyelash flutter and says, "Well, I guess you'd better take me then."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam steps over to the bed, lifts Kurt off it, and slings him over his shoulder. It all happens so fast that Kurt doesn't even have time to...well, not protest, he has no interest in protesting, but it doesn't even give him any time to react, other than to grab onto Sam's t-shirt and hold on.

Puck is taken off guard too—he _really_ didn't anticipate Sam making a move like that. He's so surprised that he barely has time to admire the way Kurt's ass looks, on display as it is, while Sam carries him out of the room. As soon as Sam and Kurt are gone, he looks around at the girls, who are staring at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Even Santana. "Don't disturb us," he tells them with a wink, right before he leaves and pulls the door shut behind him.

By the time he catches up with them, Sam has Kurt flat on his back on Finn's bed and is hovering over him, fiddling with his scarf. "You know, Kurt," he's saying, staring down into his crystal blue eyes, "some people, when they say a guy is a perfect gentleman, they mean it as a compliment."

"Is that so? Some people are into that, I guess."

"Yeah. People who aren't slutty little nymphos."

"Going to Dalton really changed you," Puck says. He sits on the bed and pushes some hair off Kurt's face. "Unless you were never really the sweet, innocent baby penguin you seemed like."

"People change," Kurt says. "People grow up."

"And sometimes what some people think of other people is just flat-out wrong," Sam adds.

"Mmm..." Kurt teases. "I don't know about that. I would maybe need to be convinced."

Puck says, "I bet you'd love to be convinced."

"I'm skeptical by nature," Kurt says. "But I'm fair, so I'd definitely give someone a chance to _try_ to convince me. Or two someones, as the case may be."

"_And_ you'll love it when you are convinced," Puck presses.

Kurt concedes, "Yes. _If _you can convince me I was wrong, I'll be the happiest bottom around."

Sam starts unbuttoning Kurt's shirt. "Careful," Kurt tells him. "This is my favorite Ralph Lauren."

"Really?" Sam asks. He rips the shirt open, letting the buttons fly off. "Too bad you're not into gentlemen then." He actually feels a little bad about it—any shirt with a guy's name is probably expensive—but fuck it, Kurt's the one who wants it this way.

Kurt bites his lip. He'd be way more annoyed about the shirt if he weren't getting so turned on. Still, the scarf is silk, and he doesn't want to see it get ripped, so he quickly unties it himself and drops it on the floor next to the bed.

Puck watches the scarf fall and wonders... "You'd look so hot with that thing tying your wrists to the headboard," he says.

Sam groans at the suggestion, and Kurt squirms. But there's something in Kurt's eyes—a flash of actual fear—that tells Puck he should back off a little. "But no. Not tonight."

_Some night_, Sam tells himself. Not tonight, but _some night_ he will get Kurt to let him tie him up and ravish him. Or...no. No, he won't get Kurt to just _let_ him tie him up and ravish him, he'll get Kurt to _beg_ him to tie him up and ravish him. But for now...He takes Kurt's hands and moves them up over his head. "Hold these," he tells him, wrapping his fingers around the slats in the headboard, "until I tell you you can stop."

Kurt gulps and nods. He knows on some level that he doesn't _have_ to do what Sam says, but he doesn't even consider not.

Sam straddles his waist and licks a broad stripe up his neck, from his collarbone to just under his ear. He was wrong about the scarf concealing hickeys—Kurt's skin is completely unmarred. But not for long. "You're gonna need a bigger scarf tomorrow," he whispers in his ear. "Or maybe a turtleneck." He continues to lick and nibble until he finds a spot right along the jugular that makes Kurt whimper when he barely touches it. Oh yeah, that's the spot he wants. He starts to suck—lightly at first, gradually applying more and more pressure until Kurt is a moaning, wiggling mess beneath him.

He feels a hand in his hair. _Kurt's_ hand in his hair. He immediately removes his mouth from Kurt's neck and stares at the slat on the headboard where the errant hand is _supposed _to be.

Kurt gulps when he realizes—he just got so caught up in what Sam was doing to him that he forgot. He grabs the slat again and mutters, "Sorry."

Puck watches the strangely intense exchange. "You can hardly blame him for being distracted, man," he tells Sam. "He's probably thinking about the two big cocks that are gonna be stuffing him soon."

"Yeah?" Sam stretches out on top of Kurt, holding his hands in place against the headboard and letting the smaller boy support most of his weight. He licks over the hickey he just gave him and starts another right next to it. He takes a break from his hickey-sucking to breathe into Kurt's ear, "Are you thinking about being stuffed with two big cocks?"

"Fuck," Kurt exhales. He can _see _Puck's—he's got it freed from his jeans and is stroking it slowly—and he can _feel_ Sam's pressed right up against his own. "_Yes_."

"Hey, Puck, come over here," Sam says, seeing the guy isn't even within arm's reach. "I think our boy needs something in his mouth."

Kurt and Puck both groan, pretty much simultaneously. Sam doesn't much want to get off his boy, but it might be too hard for him to take Puck's dick in his mouth if they don't reposition a bit. And Sam _really _wants to see Kurt take Puck's huge dick in his pretty mouth. So he rolls off of Kurt and lets Puck, now naked from the waist down, take his place on top of him.

Puck kneels over Kurt and presses the tip of his cock up against his lips. Kurt, hands still gripping the headboard, licks his lips and looks up to Puck, as if for permission. "Aw, you want it bad, don't you?" Puck teases him.

"Unless you'd rather suck mine," Kurt teases back.

"You hear that, Evans? This one's got a mouth on him."

"Better fill it up then, if you don't want to hear any more of his sass," Sam says.

It's an excellent suggestion. He thrusts in and Kurt lets out a surprised _Mmf! _But he doesn't flinch, he just starts working his tongue over every inch that Puck has given him so far. And soon he's greedily trying to suck in more.

Sam stands back to watch. "Such an eager cocksucker, aren't you, Kurt?"

Kurt nods. Or maybe he's just bobbing his head. He's really into Puck's cock, maybe he's not paying any attention to Sam at all. Sam will have to change that.

He goes to remove Kurt's pants and notices, god, those things are tight. Just look at his poor cock trapped in them. It's _trying_ to grow—it _is _growing—its every bulge starkly defined under the confining cloth. But it must be aching to be free.

Sam should be nice and let it out. That's what a gentleman would do.

He presses his fingers against the protrusion, and Kurt bucks up against them. Denim rubs desperately against his palm. He's pretty sure Kurt would be begging him...if his mouth weren't full of cock.

Puck always thought of Kurt as sort of prim. Sort of prissy. But the dude's mouth is fucking _obscene_. It's open so wide, and there's all this spit, most of it inside, coating Puck's cock, but some of it dribbling out the side. His tongue and his lips are in constant motion, and he's _really_ fucking talented with them.

And these _noises_ he's making. Like _mmf, mmf, _like he can't fucking get enough. Puck knew the dude liked dick in theory, but for some reason it surprises him how much he likes it for real—in his fucking mouth.

Kurt _can't_ get enough. It's been way too long since he had a nice thick cock in his mouth, and Puck's is _so_ nice and thick...thick and meaty and juicy—god, his precome tastes like freaking ambrosia. Kurt _so _wants the main dish, a blast of hot, thick, salty jizz filling his mouth, forcing his cheeks to puff out, and then gliding satisfyingly down his throat.

And then there's Sam. Sam, who is down there deliberately teasing him, palming his crotch but not even unbuttoning his jeans. It's so fucking frustrating when he just needs that big, guitar-calloused hand to touch his dick already.

Oh, there! There, finally his jeans are being undone and aren't constricting him so much! Yes, Sam is pulling them off—good riddance! Now there's just the thin layer of his briefs—silk—which Kurt has never enjoyed the feel of against his skin less. "_Please, Sam_," he begs, but it comes out entirely garbled thanks to the dick filling his mouth.

Sam watches Kurt squirm in his sexy little red undies. Poor guy, he's thrusting into the air, apparently thinking he'll be able to rub against Sam's hand that way. But Sam has no intention of letting him find relief that easily. He rubs his hands slowly over Kurt's stomach...then over his thighs...anywhere _except _where Kurt most needs it.

Kurt pushes back against Puck's hips and Puck immediately pulls out of his mouth. "You okay?" he asks.

"No, I'm not," Kurt says irritably. "Sam, please _do something_ down there!"

"Do something, huh? Like what?"

"Like take my underwear off and _touch _me. _Please_."

"But I wasn't hurting you?" Puck asks.

"No, I just—"

"You just made Puck take his dick out of your pretty little cocksucking mouth so you could give _me_ an order?" Sam asks incredulously.

Kurt grips the headboard tight. "Well, it wasn't an order so much as—"

"So rude," Sam says, shaking his head. "Isn't that rude, Puck? I mean, I bet you were enjoying getting your dick sucked."

"Fuck yeah," Puck agrees. He was enjoying it immensely.

"But, Sam, it's just that you—"

"It's _almost_ like you think you're the one who's in charge here. Is that what you think, Kurt?"

Kurt swallows hard. "No, I just—"

"Do you know what a safe word is, Kurt?" Sam asks, rubbing his thigh lightly.

"Um. Yes."

"Pick one."

"Uh...soufflé?"

"Soufflé. Good. You heard it, Puck? Soufflé?"

"Soufflé," Puck repeats.

"So, Kurt, if you have a problem and want us to stop, you say _soufflé_. If you just wanna boss someone around, you go find yourself a sub." His dark green eyes bore into Kurt's and he adds, "Is that what you want? Should we end this right now?"

Kurt presses his lips together and shakes his head vigorously.

Sam smiles at him reassuringly. "Good." He strips off Kurt's underwear in one fluid motion and pats his butt. "Get on your hands and knees."

Kurt starts to do as he's told but then hesitates. "Does this mean I can take my hands off the slats now?"

Sam wonders for a second whether Kurt's trying to be a smartass with the question, but one look at the earnest expression on his face tells him he's not. "Yes, it does. Thank you for asking." He looks at Puck and adds, "See? He's learning how this is gonna work."

"How is this gonna work?" Puck asks. "I mean..." He means he doesn't know where _he_ is supposed to stand...or sit or lie or what he's supposed to do in general. He also doesn't know how it has come about that _Sam_ is orchestrating _everything_, but he doesn't want to get into that question at the moment.

"Stand right there by the side of the bed," Sam instructs, moving him into position. With his hands on the bare hips he can't help but notice that Puck has a really nice ass too. Maybe when he's done with Kurt...

Speaking of whom, here he is, on his hands and knees like a good boy. He's facing them, looking into Sam's eyes and waiting for directions. "You're going to suck Puck off," Sam tells him.

Kurt looks at Puck's dick and licks his lips. Then he looks up into his eyes and asks, "Are you gonna come in my mouth?"

"Maybe," Puck says, though he's just bluffing. He'll be lucky if he can avoid coming in Kurt's mouth in the first minute if he's as good in this position as he was on his back. "Maybe I'll let you taste my come...if you earn it."

"I'll try my best," Kurt says. Then he bats his eyes at Puck—he actually bats his fucking eyes at him—and adds, "I really—_really_—love the taste of a nice, hot load of come."

"Oh, fuck." Puck takes half a step toward the bed, eliminating the short distance between them, and tangles his fingers in the hair at the back of Kurt's head. "Suck me, Hummel."

Kurt dabs his tongue at the slit, savoring the taste of the precome Puck has built up since his cock was last in Kurt's mouth. Of course, he doesn't expect Puck to stand for his delicate dabbing for long, and Puck doesn't disappoint him, soon pulling his head closer. "I said _suck_," Puck tells him. And so Kurt _sucks_. He sucks _hard_, yanking Puck's cock deeper and deeper into his mouth.

Sam can't help but stare at Kurt—the way his eyes are closed like he wants to really concentrate, the way he's breathing in deeply through his nose like he loves the smell of Puck's junk, the way his cheeks hollow out like he's sucking as hard as he possibly can. He hates to tear himself away from the sight, but he has to try to find some lube. He wishes they'd kicked the girls out of Kurt's room instead of carrying Kurt into Finn's.

Not really thinking he'll find anything, but wanting to check before going to Kurt's room and dealing with all the girls, he opens the drawer to Finn's bedside table. "Holy fucking shit," he mutters, because right there...right on top...is a bottle of exactly what he was looking for. _Exactly_ what he was looking for—the good kind. "Kurt, you little..."

Kurt opens his eyes and looks at him questioningly, but he doesn't break his sucking rhythm.

Sam leans down so he can speak into his ear. "Have you been sneaking in here at night? Letting your 'big brother' take care of you?"

Kurt's eyes go wide and he shakes his head. He crinkles his nose and makes a noise of extreme distaste.

"Then do you wanna tell me why Finn just happens to have the best anal lube in his drawer? And why it's half empty?"

Kurt pulls his head back from Puck long enough to answer. "He was using _Vaseline_. Even if it's just him and his hand I couldn't stand knowing that he was...so I gave him that, strictly for his own solo use."

"Mmm-hmm." Sam believes him. He really kind of wants to taunt him a little, but he sees that pushing the Finn angle would be a mistake. Kurt seems to have really meant that _ew_ comment, even though it wouldn't actually be incest or anything.

He climbs onto the bed and sits on his knees behind Kurt. Jesus Christ, that ass. He lets his fingers just barely glide over the cheeks and is delighted to see goose bumps form there. So he does it again.

"It's a good thing you know all about lube," he comments. "I bet you had fun trying out all the different brands. Figuring out which one helps a big cock slide in the smoothest. You really need a top-quality lube for such a delicate, tight little asshole."

Kurt is surprised that _Sam_ knows so much about anal lube. He'd share this observation, but he doesn't want to take his mouth off Puck's dick again. Besides, he actually kind of likes Sam talking to him that way. He responds only with a suggestive wiggle of his ass.

He's rewarded by those hands on him again, much firmer than the teasing little barely-there touch of a minute ago, kneading into his cheeks. And—_oh yes_—Sam's thumbs are slowly but surely working their way toward his opening. Sam's fingers spread his cheeks apart and he feels his hole twitch in anticipation, then twitch again twice as hard because he can feel Sam's eyes on it.

"So greedy, aren't you, sweetheart?" Sam asks. "Just look how bad you want it." He licks his finger and traces it gently around Kurt's rim.

Kurt groans and presses his ass back against Sam's hand. Sam knows just what he wants—he wants to be entered. And Sam is going to give him that, but not on Kurt's timetable. He keeps slowly circling, drizzling on some lube but only rubbing around the outer edge of Kurt's hole.

Sam is just going to keep teasing him, Kurt realizes—none of his wiggling and rubbing his ass against his hand is going to do anything. It's so fucking frustrating. Better to concentrate on the dick in his mouth, he decides, and he reaches one hand around behind Puck and squeezes his ass, pulling him closer.

Puck's not sure if it's intentional on Kurt's part, but the way he just groped him forced his cock in farther—he just felt it hit the back of the boy's throat. He listens but he doesn't hear gagging. God, if Kurt could actually take it...

Experimentally, he pushes in a little deeper. Kurt doesn't gag or pull his head away! He's actually...Jesus, he's actually trying to pull Puck in deeper still! Shit, if that's what he wants, Puck is more than happy to give it to him.

Oh fuck! Oh fucking..._fuck_! No sooner has Puck eased his cock all the way down his throat than Sam's finger _finally _pierces through his barrier. Even after the teasing it seems sudden and it's just all so...so..._fuck_, so overwhelming that for a second Kurt doesn't know what to do.

Just take it, he realizes. That's all he _can_ do, and it's all he wants to do. He groans around Puck's cock and breathes in through his nose as he tries not to gag.

Sam sees what Puck is doing and it's so hot that for a second he forgets what _he's_ doing and just watches his friend feeding his cock to the greedy little slut on his hands and knees in front of him. He can't wait to get inside his other end...which reminds him! And he goes back to working his finger around inside Kurt. _God_, this guy is tight! He palms his own cock, which is not the best thing for staying cool until he gets his chance, but it's really hard to _calmly _take in the show Kurt is giving him. Not that he can see Kurt's face, but he can see the pleasure on Puck's.

Puck looks down at Kurt. His eyes are watering, but still they seem to be begging for more. "You want me to fuck your throat hard?"

Kurt nods, still looking in Puck's eyes.

"I bet he wants you to come while you're throatfucking him," Sam says, "just shoot your load right down his..." He trails off because Kurt is shaking his head.

Puck stops and pulls out. "What's wrong?"

Kurt takes the opportunity to catch his breath before saying, "No, I don't want you to stop, just...if you could pull back just a _little_ when you're about to come? Otherwise I won't be able to really taste it."

"That's so hot," Puck says, and Sam agrees. He agrees so wholeheartedly that he abandons his stretching of Kurt's hole so he can stand next to Puck and get a better view of the deepthroating.

Kurt hates the sudden emptiness in his ass, but the fullness in his throat goes a long way in making up for it. He peers up at the two guys—Puck has his eyes closed and his mouth open in ecstasy, and Sam...Sam is staring down at him so _hungrily_, with such unbridled lust, that it makes him moan around Puck's cock and almost choke on it. Puck starts to pull back, but that's the last thing Kurt wants so he grabs his hips to prevent it.

God, Puck can't believe how much Hummel _wants_ his dick. He didn't think anyone actually _liked_ getting their throat fucked—he didn't think anyone who wasn't an actual pro could even take it. Which gives him an idea...He pulls his cock out over Kurt's wordless protests and tells him, "On your back." While Kurt is complying, he explains to Sam, "I saw this in a porno once." _Once_ being kind of a lie because he's watched the scene in question scores of times, but who's counting?

As soon as Kurt is flat on his back Puck pulls him until his head is hanging over the edge. Kurt opens his mouth wide so Puck can feed his cock to him again. Meanwhile, Sam strips off his jeans, climbs on the bed, and straddles Kurt's chest. Puck gives him a questioning look, and he explains, "So I can get the best view."

And what a view it is. He can't see Kurt's face, sadly, but he can see his chin move as he opens wider and wider. And then, Jesus, he swears he can actually see the outline of Puck's dick as it goes deeper and deeper into Kurt's throat. Holy fuck. Puck is moving it gently in and out...now not so gently...now he's really fucking him and Sam has to will his own hand not to do more than gently stroke because of all the ways he wants to come tonight, jerking himself off is not one of them (though his come would look hot all over that hickey-covered throat stuffed with Puck's dick).

The way Kurt is taking his cock all the way down his throat like a perfect little whore...the way Sam is watching him fuck Kurt's throat like he thinks he's some kind of sex god, which, honestly, Puck kind of feels like right now...it's too perfect to last. His balls start to tighten and he has to grab Sam's shoulders to steady himself for the last couple powerful thrusts. At the very last possible second he remembers his promise to Kurt to let him taste it, and he pulls back just enough to come in his mouth.

Kurt gratefully sucks the tip of Puck's dick, relishing the feel of it unloading all over his tongue, the roof of his mouth, the insides of his cheeks. He sucks deep and hard, not letting up until Puck stumbles backward and his cock slips out. A thin trail of come dribbles down toward his nose, but he manages to keep most of it in his mouth. He swirls it around, savoring the tangy, masculine flavor.

But he can't swallow it—not with his head upside down still. That is, he's not sure if it's actually impossible, but he doesn't want to try and end up spitting it out or choking or something. He holds his hands out, hoping Sam will take the hint and help him up, or at least get off his chest.

Sam does not disappoint—he gets off his chest and helps him to sit up. Kurt swallows quickly and then catches his breath while the other two boys stare at him in awe. Sam, he notices, is touching his cock over the boxers as he stares.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt _really_ wants to finally get a look under those boxers. A look...and a taste. He scoots closer to where Sam is standing, looks meaningfully at his crotch, and asks, "Can I?"

"Yeah," Sam agrees immediately, before it occurs to him that maybe he should try to make him beg or something. But what the hell, man, at least he asked first. That shows he knows who's in charge, right? Still, just so there's no doubt, he adds, "When I tell you."

Kurt nods and waits. He watches while Sam slowly peels off his t-shirt. Good lord, those abs! As much as he'd like Sam to come in his mouth, he'd almost rather make him come on his own abs so he can lick it off them. Not that it's up to him where or how Sam comes. And, really, whatever way Sam chooses to is going to make Kurt happy, as long as it involves him somehow.

Oh god, now he's slowly pulling his boxers down, and Kurt is about to get his first glimpse of...oh, wow, his dick looks tasty. So hard and pink and glistening with precome at the tip. Kurt reaches for it instinctively before remembering he's got to wait. He has to sit on his hands to keep them from grabbing before he's allowed.

Sam doesn't miss the way Kurt is staring at him, much less the way he almost grabbed him and then had to forcibly restrain himself. He stands there for a few seconds, just letting him look. Then he rakes his fingers through Kurt's hair, leans close to his ear, and whispers, "You having fun, baby?" Kurt nods and moans as Sam sucks another hickey right below his jaw.

He stops suddenly, just when Kurt's moans are starting to sound needy, and slowly climbs onto the bed, taking his time to position himself with his back against the headboard and his legs straight in front of him. He doesn't look at Kurt, who he knows perfectly well is watching him the whole time, until he's ready. He beckons him with one finger. Kurt swivels toward him and slides closer, and Sam tells him, "Lick, but don't suck." He has no doubt, after witnessing him in action with Puck, that Kurt's cocksucking skills are amazing, but he doesn't want to come in his mouth. He wants to come in his ass.

Kurt groans with disappointment but quickly gets on his belly between Sam's legs before Sam can change his mind and not let him even lick. The first broad swipe of his tongue starts at his balls and moves slowly and firmly up to his slit. Oh god, so delicious! He switches to quick little kitten licks, lapping up all the precome, reveling in how his actions make Sam's dick twitch and jump.

Sam knew Kurt was going to be good at this, but _damn_. The urge to just fuck into his mouth is nearly overwhelming, even though his dick isn't even technically inside Kurt's mouth.

Wow. Puck can't get over how much Kurt really loves dick. But what catches his eye even more is that amazing little ass that's finally on display. While Hummel is going to town on Evans's junk, he's got his legs spread like a goddamn invitation. Not that Puck needs one.

He climbs onto the bed, pushes Kurt's legs apart even farther, and sits on his knees between them. _God_, what an ass! So round and perky—and with his legs spread so wide, the sweet little hole is visible, just winking at him practically. Puck definitely wants to get inside that hole, but first he grabs a cheek in each hand and squeezes...hard. Kurt moans and ruts against the mattress.

Puck pulls the cheeks apart, further exposing the little opening, until he can't take it anymore and he needs to finger the guy. He finds where Sam dropped the lube bottle and drizzles some directly into Kurt's hole.

It's a cold shock, and Kurt startles and accidentally takes the tip of Sam's cock inside his mouth. Oh god, he really wants to suck. He lets it fall out of his mouth and looks up with his best puppy dog eyes. "Please can I suck?" he asks. "Just a little?"

"Dude, let him," Puck advises. He squirts some of the lube on his fingers and adds, "He's _really_ good at it," just as he finally slides a finger inside Kurt. Holy shit, he can't wait to get his dick in there. Luckily he doesn't feel like it's going to be long before he's hard enough to.

Kurt starts squirming around like crazy, trying desperately to work Puck's finger deeper into himself. Puck pulls it out suddenly. This elicits a disappointed moan from Kurt, which is replaced with a happy moan when he plunges back in with two. Sam watches and takes a deep breath. Yes, he's going to let Kurt suck him, but he needs a second to steel himself first. He knows he'll need a lot of willpower to not come in Kurt's mouth while he's watching this show.

One more deep breath as he watches Kurt rock back and forth on Puck's fingers, and then Sam grabs the back of his head and pulls it in closer. "You wanna suck?" he says. "Then suck me."

Kurt does want to suck. Fuck, Sam's cock feels good in his mouth. Sam is moving his head back and forth, Puck is slamming his fingers in and out of him...the only thing that could make this better is if he had an actual dick in his ass.

Sam is thinking pretty much the same thing—except that in his case it's more like having to consciously remind himself that Kurt's ass is going to feel a lot better than his mouth, which itself feels pretty fucking amazing. He thinks of all the practice the horny little slut must have had sucking off guys at Dalton—and Sam knows first hand what horndogs guys at all boys' boarding schools are—to get down this technique that, fuck, is about to make him blow. Which some day he'll do in Kurt's mouth, but not today.

Just before reaching the point of no return, Sam pulls out of his mouth. He flips Kurt onto his back and spins him so he can reach his ass. "Hey!" Puck protests. "My fingers were in there! You almost took 'em off."

"Sorry, man," Sam says, though he's not all that sorry. "I just think it's time for this sweet ass to get stuffed with something better than fingers."

"Dear god, yes," Kurt huffs.

Puck stands back, resigning himself to sloppy seconds. It's only fair; he did get to fuck the guy's throat, after all.

Sam gets up on his knees and roughly lifts Kurt's lower half to inspect his hole. It looks like Puck stretched him pretty well, thank god. He runs his finger around the lube-slick rim just to make sure. "God, yes," Kurt repeats, and he's totally right. _God, yes_: he's loose enough but still plenty tight. He takes the lube that Puck wordlessly hands him and coats his dick with it.

Kurt hooks his ankles over Sam's shoulders. He's rolling his hips in anticipation, even though there's nothing to roll against yet. He wants to snap at Sam, tell him to hurry the fuck up and fuck him already, but he's pretty sure that would just make him draw it out even longer. Instead he looks at him pleadingly and whispers, "Sam, please."

He looks so desperate that Sam doesn't even want to taunt him anymore, not right now. He touches Kurt's cheekbone with his thumb and says, "Okay, baby. I got you." He grabs Kurt's hips, though not roughly this time, and lines him up. "Show me where you want it, baby," he whispers. Kurt whimpers; he reaches down and pulls his ass cheeks apart, shamelessly exposing his needy little hole.

Sam presses the tip of his cock up against Kurt's entrance. He holds it there just long enough to pull one more whimper out of Kurt, and then he pushes in quickly.

They all gasp. Even Puck, who's just watching, but Jesus, he was starting to think Sam was _never_ gonna actually fuck the poor guy.

Sam works his way in slowly, with shallow little thrusts. He knows Kurt wants his whole dick and wants it now, but he's not even trying to tease—no matter how many cocks Kurt may have taken at Dalton, no matter how long he and Puck have spent stretching him just now, the guy is fucking _tight_. Sam doesn't want to hurt him.

Puck watches, rapt, as Sam's cock sinks in a tiny bit more with each thrust, gradually—so gradually—disappearing between those firm, round cheeks and burying itself in what must be the sweetest, hottest—

"Fuck!"

Sam has just pushed in hard for the first time, making Kurt yelp. It's not a yelp of pain, or mostly not of pain, it's just...it's just..._fuck_!

"Fuck!" This time it's Sam swearing. He doesn't usually, like, talk much during sex, not during the actual fucking, but...but, _fuck_, Kurt's ass feels sweet. He holds still for as long as he can stand it—as long as _Kurt_ can stand it, judging by his increasing squirminess—and, just to be sure, asks, "Are you ready to get plowed for real?"

Kurt nods enthusiastically. "_Please_," he says, grinding his ass against Sam.

Sam grins—a big, goofy grin that probably makes him look like an idiot, but that's the last thing he cares about now. Holding Kurt's hips tight, he pulls most of the way out, pauses for a split second, and then _slams_ back into that tight, tight channel he so patiently worked open. His balls smack against Kurt's ass, and without even a split-second delay this time he's pulling out and slamming back in again, over and over, relentlessly.

Puck can't get over how hot Kurt looks taking it like he is. And as much as he likes watching that huge cock piston in and out of that hot little ass, what he actually most likes watching is Kurt's face, all beet red and scrunched up, head writhing against the sheets, totally messing up his hair. He's muttering a steady stream nonsense—with the occasional _fuck_ thrown in—all while biting down on Finn's blanket.

He's jealous of the blanket. Not that he wants to get bitten, but he wants Kurt's mouth on him again. Not even on his dick necessarily, but... but, oh fuck, he wants to kiss Kurt. Is that gay? But then, there's nothing not-gay about the situation he's in right now, so fuck it. He lies down on his side, holds Kurt's thrashing head still, moves the blanket out of the way, and replaces it with his own tongue.

Kurt is momentarily confused. Well, he does have other things on his mind...and in his ass...and, now, in his mouth, apparently. So it takes him a few seconds to realize that Puck is _kissing_ him. And when it does register with him...Jesus. He gropes around for his mohawk and holds it tight while sucking on his tongue, remembering how it felt to suck his dick.

It's his own dick, though, that he's thinking about most right now. It's so hard now that it hurts, and with the way Sam is nailing him he needs to come soon or he'll...he'll...he doesn't even know. He reaches for it with the hand that's not in Puck's hair...only to feel Sam's hand grabbing and holding it against his stomach.

Without slowing down the brutal pace of his fucking, Sam asks him, "What do you think you're doing?"

"_Please, Sam_!" he tries to say, but his words are completely muffled inside Puck's mouth.

Puck can tell Kurt's trying to say something, so he moves his mouth away and starts sucking on his neck instead.

"_Please, Sam_!" Kurt repeats, intelligibly this time. "I really need to—"

"You don't decide when you get to come. We do, Puck and me."

Puck! "Puck...please..." Kurt whines in his ear.

Puck looks in his face and sees how much he needs it. It's super hot, but he's not cruel enough to keep him in that state any longer. He spits in his palm and reaches for Kurt's dick.

Oh—_oh!_—Puck's hand is strong! Between the pounding on his prostate and the yanking on his dick he can only hold out another minute or so before he's arching off the bed and wailing into Puck's ear as his come starts to fly out, painting his and Sam's chests.

Sam fucks him right through it, even though the clenching around his cock really, really makes him want to unload too. But Kurt can't be allowed to dictate when anyone comes, least of all when Sam does. Plus, the fucking is way too good for Sam to be ready to stop a moment sooner than he absolutely has to.

That moment comes quicker than he'd like, but not before Kurt's shaking from having his oversensitive prostate continuously pounded. He isn't asking Sam to stop, though, he's taking it like a pro, like the accomplished little whore he is, and...oh god...

Sam leans forward, pushing Kurt's knees back onto his chest, and braces himself against the mattress. He's about to come harder than he has in, like, ever, and he needs any extra leverage he can get. He jackhammers in and out half a dozen more times before his body seizes up, cock expanding and surging forward on its own, painting Kurt's insides with burst after burst of his come.

His muscles go limp all at once, and he collapses on top of Kurt. But that's got to be uncomfortable for Kurt, all folded in half like he still is, so he uses the last of his energy to roll over and lie next to him instead.


End file.
